Return of the Crowned Heiress

Before Felicia could even express her disdain, a small, exquisitely crafted throwing, knife whizzed through the air, heading straight for Pete. If he hadn’t reacted fast enough, that blade would have pierced right through his eye.

the sharp edge still grazed the side of his face, loning behind a thin, bloody mark

The one who threw the knife was none other than Stephan himsel

Calmly, he handed Felicia a freshly peeled apple. She took it and took a bite, finding the sweet, crisp taste of it surprisingly pleasant, just like that, the irritation Pete’s shameless words had sparked in her vanished entirch.

She sat back in her lounge chair, entirely uninterested in acknowledging Pete any farther.

Pete, neatly stabbed moments ago, immediately toned down his arrogance. He dared not say another word, though only he knew how much resentment and anger boiled inside

him

On the deck, Stanley lowered his voice and asked, “Mr. Russell, do you want to take care of him now?”

Pete had plotted against them way too many times, and each time was enough to warrant his death. No matter what, Stephan would never let him walk away from this alive.

But they were still out at sea, and there were more pressing matters at hand. First, they had to resolve Maurice’s situation. Once that was dealt with, Pete’s death was inevitable.

a casual glance in Stanley’s direction, not even bothering to speak. That was enough for Stanley to understand

it to me. Once we reach our

nice and East, Stanley replied

them, Felicia blinked, pretending

already dark sky grew even gloomier Thick storm clouds rolled in above them, and streaks of hening slashed through the sky, both brilliant and menacing A crew member hurried over, shouting, “Mr. Russell, ma’am, a heavy storm is

drops of rain began to pour

down.

studied the sea’s weather conditions and had predical smooth sailing. There

this severe

This wasn’t just a heavy storm–it was a full–blown

sky, and the vast sea churned violently as though something mass we was about to emerge from

and Stephan exchanged glances but remained

face of such raw, uncontrollable forces of nature, human beings seemed small and insignificant. All of them

the deep sea only added to their fear. What if a rogue wave struck? What if a whirlpool suddenly

thought made their faces turn pale But despite their terror, they

their original ship On Stephan’s high–grade vessel, with its sheer size and reinforced structure, they had a far better chance of